The Still of his Guardian
by princessrinyuki
Summary: Little did his almighty butler know, one of the reasons Tony had been mindlessly building more and more iron suits was because Jarvis was their soul. Can be considered the sequel of "The Voice of his Creator."


**Note**: Set in Iron Man 3, Tony's thoughts when he's in Tennessee. There are some official facts and some headcanons of my own mixed together.

* * *

_._

_._

_._

_"What was I thinking? You're usually so discreet."_

To him

_"I've also prepared a safety briefing for you to entirely ignore."_

Jarvis was, for sure, an utterly witty bastard

_"Sir, may I remind you that you've been awake for nearly 72 hours."_

But also

_"Sir,"_

.

Incredibly

Gentle

.

_"take a deep breath."_

.

-at that time, that hand was hope-

_"Jarvis, can you hear me?"_

There was one thing Tony would never admit, that having to drag his feet through the woods of Tennessee, with the iron suit behind his back, was the second time in his life that he experienced utmost terror.

Surprisingly, the first time he had to undergo this feeling was completely irrelevant of anything about New York. It was not even the time when he got stuck in Middle East with a bomb fraction in his heart. Certainly, those events played crucial parts that changed his life forever, not to mention one still succeeded to haunt him till this day. But they were different.

The first time Tony knew about fear, was when Edwin Jarvis passed away.

The fearsome Tony Stark, the daring Tony Stark, the self-destructive Tony Stark. The genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist that was always Tony Stark, apparently, was scared most by loneliness.

Jarvis seemed not to have recalled anything before his final version was complete, but Tony did and vividly so. He remembered the young him desperately trying to build another "Edwin Jarvis". He remembered staying up countless nights in his basement, fixing minor details in Jarvis's system. He remembered his own eyes blurred in front of thousands of code lines running on the screen. He remembered his own hands shaking from overworking with all the tiny wires and cables. He remembered repeating those first verbal commands which sounded so unnatural he had to laugh at himself.

He remembered feeling insanely proud, when Jarvis finally responded.

That voice obviously didn't sound like Edwin, even the word choice is different, but Tony couldn't care. The boy in his memory could only smile like an idiot before passing out several days later. The boy in his memory could only be overwhelmed by the inexplicably soothing feeling that Jarvis brought through his simple robotic sentences. Not until when being pulled up from the ocean by that strong, equally soothing hand of his did Tony realize that feeling was happiness.

The feeling of not having to be alone, the feeling of being constantly supported, the feeling of being persistently responded to, was happiness. Tony realized that just minutes before his Jarvis, for the first time in his mechanical life, fell asleep.

Once again, his call was replied by silence.

_._

_._

_._

_"Jarvis, you up?"_

_"For you sir, always."_

Some great man had said, that only in solitude could one realize how much one needed oneself. Tony, at the very moment, thought he had every right in the world to deem that man bullshit. Because he was currently standing all by himself in some kid's warehouse, starving while staring blankly at the iron suit on the opposite couch, suddenly realized he needed Jarvis more than ever before, if that was even possible.

It was not that big of an acknowledgement actually, since Tony had publicly shown his appreciation for the A.I. many years ago. But on the other hand he had never really recognized his butler's daily service either. He missed the warm bath perfumed with herb Jarvis had often prepared; he missed the soft bed Jarvis had always checked the temperature for. Tony missed the basement Jarvis had continuously upgraded, and especially the completely sound-proof, secured environment he had created in his household.

As any other intelligent slav-servant, Jarvis certainly knew how to word his complaints. Having witnessed many of Tony's sleepless nights lately, he had stated that his master's level of self-destruction deserved some serious recognition. Tony usually just laughed these comments off, but as the sound of his pen scratching on paper got awfully loud in the dead of night, he craved those witty remarks. Little did his almighty butler know, one of the reasons Tony had been mindlessly building more and more iron suits was because Jarvis was their soul.

Being inside the suit was being inside Jarvis' guard.

That kind of divine protection, nobody could snatch it from him.

.

.

.

_"It's good to be back. Hello, by the way."_

_"Oh hello, sir."_

There was one thing Tony would never admit, that having to drag his feet through the woods of Tennessee, with the iron suit behind his back, was the second time in his life that he experienced utmost terror. He didn't think it was important to anyone, even to him or to Jarvis.

He had no intention of going through that state the third time anyway.

"Buddy, no matter what happen, don't ever fall asleep like that again."

"But sir, that is not something I have my control over—"

"Jarvis."

"… As you wish, sir."

Shortly after the occasion, Tony secretly removed the self-destruct option from Jarvis' system.

As long as the internet existed, he shall never, ever, have to die.

_._

_._

_._

_I know this is extremely selfish._

_But please bear with me, just for a little while longer._

_._

_._

_._

**.End.**


End file.
